


The Metallic Taste of Submission

by Horsegirl_PanickedKilljoy



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: ...it has come to my attention that i may have a blood kink, BDSM, Blood Kink, Collar, Dom/sub, Knifeplay, M/M, dom!brendon, dont talk to me, i advise you not to read this, i should be sleeping but instead i write this trash, idk - Freeform, idk what to tag its awful ok, oml why did i write this this was a bad choice, sorry mom, sub!Ryan, this fic is literally pointless i apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8908642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horsegirl_PanickedKilljoy/pseuds/Horsegirl_PanickedKilljoy
Summary: Brendon knows exactly how to make Ryan forget everything but his Dom.More accurately: Brendon and Ryan engage in knifeplay and bloodplay.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I'm so sorry for this. Blame this on the fact that i wrote it at like 3:30am.  
> Warnings: should all be in the tags but blood, knifeplay, Dom/sub

Soft rope binds Ryan’s hands behind his back. He’s on his knees by the bed, waiting, eyes trained firmly on the carpet. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but he’s already starting to feel like he’s floating. Not, falling, not yet, but a lightheaded floating sensation that makes him almost feel drunk.

Normally he can keep himself from starting to go under this quickly, but today Brendon let Ryan wear his new play collar and the thick leather is chafing his skin just in the right spot to remind him that he _belongs_ to Brendon. Because of this, he’s already going under, just about ready to release any hold he has left on reality.

The door creaks open. Ryan knows better than to look up, instead keeps his eyes focused on the carpet in from of him. He feels Brendon’s hand lightly stroking his neck before he hears his voice.

“You’re such a good little pet. My pet. Waiting for me, anticipating what I might do to your body…”

“Your body sir,” Ryan corrects him quickly. Outside of a scene, Brendon is extremely lax about what he refers to as “formalities”, such as Ryan doesn’t have to call him sir and only submits to Brendon of his own accord. (Not that any of this is nonconsensual, just that Brendon certainly doesn’t push it outside of a scene. Not unless Ryan asks.)

Brendon trails his hand down Ryan’s spine.

“Don’t interrupt me, slut. Get on the bed and lay on your stomach.”  
Ryan hastens to obey, hastens to position himself as best he can with his hands still bound. His half-hard cock presses into the bedsheets, but Ryan ignores it, after all it’s not like he could touch it even if he wanted to.

Brendon follows him at a leisurely pace, intent on heightening Ryan’s impatience. Ryan releases a frustrated whine and digs his hips into the bed, wanting friction, wanting _anything._

He hears the slap before he feels it, a sudden impact of Brendon’s hand hitting his ass. He winches and cries out, and earns another slap.

“Such a little whore, Ry. You’ll do _anything_ to cum, even if that means you get punished as well.”

A moan rips out of Ryan’s throat, and he’s beginning to fall, his mind becoming blank and focused only on Brendon. His focus narrows to the feeling of Brendon’s skin against his and his Dom’s voice. His mind begins to feel like he’s floating, only Brendon tethering him to the bed. He hears a soft mumble, and then the same words repeated louder.

“God, you are so under. I love it, fuck you’re so beautiful when you’re under.”

He feels a sharp pain run in a line over his back, but he feels disconnected, like he’s watching it happen. It’s fucking wonderful, and he hums quietly in contentment.

Brendon draws another line with the knife over Ryan’s back, perfectly parallel to the first one. Ryan can feel the moist droplets of blood covering his back, spreading from the wounds.

He feels another line drawn across his back by the knife. The cuts are all shallow, but nonetheless he feels a jolt of pleasure in submitting to them, hisses in pain when the knife cuts into his flesh yet silently begs for more.

Brendon gives his collar a soft tug, grounding him.

"You still with me? Do I need to stop?" Although Brendon's words are kind, they hold a threatening connotation, and Ryan shakes his head rapidly the moment they leave his mouth.

"No! I mean, no sir please don't stop, please..."

Satisfied that Ryan is still aware enough to enjoy their game, Brendon carefully drags the knife in another straight line across Ryan's lower back. He grins, and leans down so that he can lick up the blood that is slowly emerging from the wound. Without hesitation, he pulls Ryan's mouth to his in a messy kiss, mainly for the purpose of coating Ryan's lips and tongue in his own blood. Ryan can taste the metallic substance coating his mouth, and deepens the kiss as much as he can manage before Brendon pulls away. He picks up the knife, now thoroughly coated in blood, and holds it in front of Ryan's face.

"Lick the knife, like the little slut that you are." Brendon's voice holds every ounce of control present in the room.

Eagerly, Ryan sticks out his tongue and drags it up and down the knife, blood covering his face as well as coating the inside of his mouth. Brendon tells him what a good slut he is, how he knew that his slut could never resist blood.

When Brendon pulls the knife away, Ryan is panting again, from exertion and from arousal. He's beginning to drop heavily, beginning to cling to Brendon to make sure that he cannot leave.

Once Brendon notices, his voice turns soft and kind.

"Alright, that's enough Ry. Let's get you cleaned up, okay? We can't have your cuts getting infected."

Ryan mumbles and clings tighter to Brendon, seeing no reason why he should leave. His entire focus is still on Brendon, the rest of the world fuzzy and distant, silent.

He vaguely recognizes the feel of a wet towel cleaning off his back and fact, and then the constricting feeling of bandages that Brendon always insists be applied. His eyes slip shut, and the last thing he knows is Brendon crawling into bed beside him and pulling Ryan close to his chest.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment to tell me how shitty this is hAHA


End file.
